So I land. Collect my bag. Walk out the airport doors. Cross the zebra crossing. And hear a guy stuck in traffic shouting at me out of his mini van window. “Welcome to New York, you’re going to rock it in this city, am I right?!” Before I get a chance to reply Why yes sir, I certainly hope so! he adds on… “And I hope you get raped!!” OK? Thanks? Oh Jesus. I’m in New York. Continue Reading »
Carmaggedon: Some spoof. Never seen the roads so quiet. Hollywood hype! Waste of a shotgun. End of the world will have to wait.
Me: Some idiot. Have you ever tried to take shortcuts, even though you’ve never been in the place before? Some clown. Driving back from a gig on Saturday. Never there before. But I know where I’m going. Let’s take this left here. Down this lane. Now if I just swing around on this 270˚ angle. Go up this hill. Along this back road. And I should be home… Why am I on the Pacific Coast Highway?Heading for San Francisco? Some funking idiot. Berating myself in the car: Why are you trying to take shortcuts?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!! Only took me thirty five minutes to get back to the original road I was on. Some. Ape. Dope.
DJigs: Corporate gigs are the way to go. Forget bars or clubs. One night. About two hours of work. Rent. Sorted. Giddy up! No wonder singers and the likes do those weird gigs in Saudia Arabia or on a Russian billionaire’s yacht. Money talks. Let’s not mention how irregular they can be. Shhh. Nice views too. Rooftop on… Continue Reading »
Dancers. Islands. Yachts. Parts. Practice. Bathrooms. Some things are better private. Ehh… Numbers. Some things are not. One new addition to the better pile… Jets. Finally I can now confidently say: Private jets are the dancers of the air. Finally, says you. I know, says I. Giddy up! Assumption off. Jet on. Absolutely funking mighty. Planned on doing a blogaruu from up in the air. Unfortunately. Tad busy. Boozing. Dancing. On a plush private jet. On my way to Vegas. All on a Monday morning?!! Nay too shabby. Bloody Mary all the way! Literally. Go on the ape. Did manage to get a bit of mental bookaruu scribbling in, at least. Le sequel could start a bit like this… I’m on a jet. Private kind. En route to Vegas. Disneyland. Doused in acid. The land of whures. Heat. More whures. Monkeys. Mind wobbles. Crap fun. And depression. Wuu! Can’t wait. Vegas on… Continue Reading »
White pudding. Black pudding. Slightly different. At the same time. Both pudding. Today reminded me of this fact. Lined up to be a mighty day. By mighty, I mean productive. Being an ediot looks like it could be over. For the time being. Final edits of the book emailed in yesterday. Probably no more. That’s it. I think. Done. Should be it. Should be dancing. Should be good to go. So. Then. Now. What? Crutch has been taken away from me. No longer am I… finishing off the book. Finished. Walking free. Crutch-less. World is my oyster. Time to plough on. Time to get going on the next step. I know what I must do. So. Then. Go? Into the abyss. Determined to fend off the black abyss. The unknown. Just change its name. Not a black abyss of nothing. Endless possibilities of what to do next! White abyss! Here I come!!! Here I… Oh Jesus. Drifting. Don’t know what to do. White. Black. Pot. Tom. Ate. Toe. Lost. Continue Reading »